


Eyes Like the Sea

by sunflowerbright



Series: Day by Drabble [36]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerbright/pseuds/sunflowerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finnick had been prepared for the Capitol owning him, life and body. He had not been prepared for the long, draggin days in-between. And he had most certainly not been prepared for Annie Cresta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Like the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Blue Skies prompt #30 (ennui)

Finnick had known from the start that the moment his name had been pulled at the Reaping he would forever belong to the Capitol, winner or not. That his face would forever be amongst those who’d entered the Arena and fought until the blood ran: that he’d always be a part of this gruesome and horrible playtime they had invented.

So, he was prepared, really, for the fact that it didn’t just stop when he’d finally won. That, even after the blood had been washed off, he would still feel dirty and used, for so many other different reasons.

What he wasn’t prepared for was the discontent when he was at home. The dreadful feeling of simply waiting for the next time he would be called to the Capitol, the next Reaping and the next time he had to train someone to watch them die. He wasn’t prepared for the days where he would wake to the sunlight streaming in and lay in bed, watching as the rays and shadows turned longer and was replaced by the darkness of night once again.

No, he wasn’t prepared at all for the long, lonely hours in what should have been his sanctuary. And he felt like he was going insane.

“Annie won,” Mags tells him, her voice breaking through the haze of his thoughts and it takes a moment for Finnick to realize that he is in the Capitol, half-asleep on a couch, surrounded by Gamemakers and sponsors and former tributes, all clapping and telling him, _congratulations, your District won._

Annie Cresta won. The tiny, little speck of a girl that everyone had expected to die on the very first day. The little girl with eyes like the sea, eyes that had looked right through him last time he’d seen her.

They pull her back in and her eyes see nothing around her, too lost in the horrors within her mind, horrors you are expected to leave behind you in the Arena. She screams and fights and sobs and bleeds and he remembers the birds caught in their fishing nets back home, struggling and fighting and their limb bodies as they pull them out of the sea.

At least, she emerges alive. If not unscathed.

He gets to hold her, on the long days, when the world seems to stop and there doesn’t have to be anything put them. When the roar of the Capitol and the Games float away, to be replaced by the sound of crashing waves and shrieking seagulls and the smell of sand and salt. He gets to pull her as close as humanly possible and one day, she pulls him even closer and whisper that he makes the days bearable, even when he’s not around.

He thinks she makes his days bearable too. Little Annie Cresta, with eyes like the sea.


End file.
